All I want for Christmas
by The Libran Iniquity
Summary: Still trying to raise morale, Neelix decides to have a Christmas party for the crew. But an Xmas bash just ain't complete without a resident Santa...


Once again I don't own _Star Trek: Voyager_ or any of the characters contained herein, with the exceptions of Ensign Li Morwenna and Ensign Robert Mackie. Speaking of which, a very merry Christmas to Bob and Helena, to whom I unabashedly dedicate this little piece of Christmas fun...  
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"...deck the walls with boughs of holly..."

"...red-nosed reindeer... had a very shiny nose..."

Wafts of songs floated across the mess hall of _Voyager_, some in tune, others... well, maybe not so much in tune, but it was the effort that counted, after all. But still, while many of the crew in the mess knew the words to the various Terran carols by heart, there were one or two people who didn't.

"That one! What's that one called?" Neelix asked, humming a tune as he stirred something in a pot.

Tom Paris and Harry Kim looked at each other and groaned. The Talaxian had promised them that he would only take a few seconds of their time, but it was now fifteen minutes and counting.

"_The Twelve Days of Christmas_," Tom explained, then grinned and turned to Harry. "Hey, do you remember the version that went around at the Academy way back when?"

Harry nodded, and grinned in response. "Wasn't it something like: 'On the first day of Starfleet, the professor gave to me an essay title or three'?"

"Yeah," Tom said remembering, "all the way up to twelve Ferengi love songs!"

"Lieutenant, Ensign," Neelix interrupted, setting his pot down on a work surface and turning to face the two men.

"Yes, Neelix?" Harry asked politely, trying to ignore Tom's snorts, presumably from the eleventh day of Christmas à la Starfleet.

"Could either of you gentlemen tell me today's date?" Neelix asked.

"Sure," Tom said, sobering up. "Stardate 5..."

"No, the old Terran date," Neelix reiterated.

"The Georgian calendar?" Harry asked, and Neelix nodded. "Uh, December 16th. Why do you ask?"

The morale officer leaned inwards and beckoned the two men to join him. When they did so, he explained. "Humans traditionally celebrate Christmas on December 25th, according to the databanks, and I thought it would be a good idea - with Captain Janeway's permission, of course - to throw a little party for a crew. Just to keep morale up."

Harry and Tom sat up straight. "That sounds pretty good," Harry said slowly, "although you'll have to pull off a miracle if you want to beat my mom's homemade turkey and stuffing."

"Or Christmas pudding the way my Aunt Caroline used to make it," Tom said. "Paris family rule," he added. "No replicators in December."

"Same here," Harry agreed.

Neelix was smiling widely. "I'll talk to the captain right away!" he said.

Tom started suddenly. "Hang on a minute," he said. "Aren't we forgetting something?"

"What?" Neelix asked, and opposite him the science officer shook his head in confusion.

"Santa," Tom explained pedantically. "You can't have any kind of Christmas party without the man himself there."

"Tom, the crew is mostly adult," Harry reminded him. "The only children we have on board are Naomi and Icheb."

"And everybody on this ship is just a big kid at heart anyway," Tom said patiently, as if talking to Naomi herself. "Besides, it's Christmas. It's Christmas and we're fifty thousand light-years from home. I don't exactly think the padd-pushers or whoever it is writing the rule-books back home are going to kick us out because we had jolly Saint Nick hang around a starship for the day."

"When you put it like that..." Harry was being won over.

"We could use the holodeck," Neelix mused. He picked up the ladle from the pot and started tapping it softly on the counter.

As one, Tom and Harry shook their heads. "No, no and no," Tom emphasised. "If we're going to have a Father Christmas..."

"... we have to do it properly." Harry finished the sentence, and both men flashed their best puppy-dog eyes at Neelix, who eventually caved in and dismissed using the holodeck.

"How about reprogramming the Doc's appearance sub-routines?" Harry suggested. "You can't do it much more properly than that."

"He wouldn't agree," Tom said darkly. "We'll have to get someone to dress up for the occasion. Between the three of us we should be able to manage enough replicator rations for an outfit. Harry, anyone owe you any favours?"

Harry shook his head. "Not unless you count Ensign Li, and that was only because she switched shifts with Vorik so that he could show me some ancient Vulcan ritual on the holodeck."

"I can't think of anybody suitable either." Neelix looked a little down as he said that; it appeared as though he really had been rather looking forward to a proper Terran celebration on Voyager. "Lieutenant?" he asked.

A slow smile was starting to grow on the helmsman's face. "I know somebody," he began. "He who owes me a couple of favours -"

"You've got blackmail on him," Harry interrupted, grinning.

"He owes me a couple of favours." Tom shot a dirty look at Harry before continuing. "As long as we get a good beard, he'll look the part, and he's great with children."

"And who's that?" Neelix asked, abandoning the ladle completely.

Instead of answering, Tom got up. "Give me two hours," he said. "Two hours, and I'll have a Santa we can all be proud of."

"Okay then," Neelix responded.

"Go talk to the captain!" Tom threw back over his shoulder, heading for the mess hall doors, bypassing a rousing rendition of _Good King Wenceslas_ as he did so.

***

The door to the captain's ready room chirped, pulling the occupant out of a slight stupor caused by a dozen reports requiring her attention.

"Come in!" Kathryn Janeway called, pulling her mug of coffee into one hand, and pushing a pile of padds away with the other. Well, she deserved a break right about now.

The door slid open, and Seven of Nine stood in the doorway, a single padd held delicately in one hand. She crossed the small room in four fluidic steps and came to a stop in front of Kathryn's desk, who stood up as the other woman approached.

"Seven," she said, setting her mug back on the desk. "How can I help?"

"There are a number of small matters that have arisen that require addressing," Seven stated without preamble.

"Yes?" Kathryn encouraged.

"Over the past few days I have noticed a large proportion of the human crew of _Voyager_ as well as some of the non-human personnel engaging in atypical activities and pastimes."

"Such as?" Kathryn asked, smiling slightly.

"Seventy-four percent of the human crew have taken to singing or humming the same selection of songs both at their posts and during off-duty hours. Thirty-eight percent make repetitive obscure references to various Terran foliages including mistletoe and holly. Seventeen percent are currently spending the majority of lunch hours debating the merits and downfalls of turkey breast compared to turkey leg. And," she concluded, "Lieutenant Paris has been wearing the same red and white hat outside of his shifts for three days running with no explanation as to his behaviour."

It sounded as though Tuvok was giving a security report, and Kathryn struggled briefly to hide her amusement. "Do you know what time of year it is?" she asked finally, settling instead for a look of amused concern.

Seven inclined her head to one side. "According to Voyager's database there are nine days of the human calendar left until the celebration of Christmas," she said.

"Well, there you have it," Kathryn smiled. "You can hardly blame the crew for getting a little festive."

"I fail to see the significance of standing around foliage and singing archaic themed songs at this particular time of the year," Seven stated primly, a little condescension creeping into her voice.

To her surprise, Kathryn heard herself laugh. "I've often wondered the same thing," she said. "Especially with _The Twelve Days of Christmas_ that the cadets at the Academy like belting out every year. It's all part of being human, Seven," she explained, seeing that she was losing the younger woman. "You get used to festivities in the air after a while."

"But these... festivities in the air are causing the crew to lack efficiency," Seven countered. "The expected efficiency levels among most of the crew are falling."

"What do you suggest be done about it then, Seven?" Kathryn asked, picking up her coffee again and taking a sip.

The former Borg considered this for a moment. "According to my research, humans typically engage in communal Christmas celebrations with family and friends," she said.

"Should we throw some sort of a 'communal celebration' on Voyager?" Kathryn asked. "I can't see Neelix objecting to an excuse for a party."

"I would refrain from the chance for crew to take in large amounts of synthale and alcohol," Seven said in a warning tone.

"Got it," Kathryn acquiesced with a smile. "No hangovers on my ship," she said in mock-seriousness. "And thank you for bringing this to my attention, Seven. I'll see what I can do to address this... problem head-on."

Seven nodded. "I should return to Astrometrics."

"Dismissed."

As the door closed again, Kathryn sat back down and stared into her coffee for a moment. Whether it had been her original intention or not, they had just hit onto something...

She hit her commbadge. "Janeway to Neelix."

"Captain! I was just on the verge on speaking to you myself..."

***

"Hey, Bob!"

Ensign Robert Mackie stopped in the corridor and turned around to see who was calling him; Ensign Harry Kim, had just stepped out of the turbolift and was trying to catch him up. He obligingly stopped where he was and waited for Harry to reach him.

"Thanks for that," Harry panted.

"Can I help you, Harry?" Robert asked as the pair resumed walking down the corridor.

The science officer shot him a sideways look. "That depends," he answered cryptically. "You know it's Christmas soon, right?"

"Coming from my family, I'd be worried it I didn't," the Scotsman retorted dryly.

"Well," Harry began. "I... You're still friends with Li Morwenna, right?"

"Yes."

"I was wondering, uh... could the two of you do me a big favour?"

Robert thought about this for a few moments. "I won't answer for 'Wenna, but go on."

"Weneedsomeelvesforaparty," Harry said in one breath, blushing as he did so.

"Elves?" Robert asked sceptically.

"Yeah. You see, Neelix is looking for a pair of volunteers to back up Santa, and we were wondering, that is, uh, if you and Morwenna would do the honours?" Harry asked.

Robert considered his reply for a minute before actually responding. "'Wenna's Bajoran," he said, "and I know for a fact that she'll be more likely to advocate the Gratitude Festival than something like Christmas. And, er, no offence Harry, but you won't catch me dead in tights, thank you very much."

"Please?" Harry wheedled. "I wouldn't be asking you if this wasn't so important. Tom claims he's got a Santa lined up, Neelix is doing the food, Tuvok and Captain Janeway have arranged the people doing duty shifts during the whole thing, and I got the short straw."

"Santa's little helpers?" Robert asked for clarification.

Harry nodded. "Come on, Bob," he pleaded. "I can check that the costumes don't have tights, or anything like that. Do this for me and I owe you a very big favour?" he asked hopefully.

Robert sighed. "On one condition, Mister Kim."

"Anything!"

"I'll be one elf, and you be the other."

"Done."

"And you still owe me that favour, should I ever need it."

Harry sighed. "You drive a hard bargain Mister Mackie, but thank you."

"You're welcome," Robert replied automatically, wondering what on earth he had just landed himself in this time.

"Really. I mean it." Harry branched off to head for the mess. "Thanks Bob!" he called back as the mess door hissed open.

Mentally, Robert went back over what had just happened, then shook his head and started walking again. Sometimes, he realised on the way, Harry Kim was just too weird.

***

On the bridge, science had just completed another sensor sweep and revealed nothing out of the ordinary within a five-light-year distance, something the bridge crew was profoundly grateful for, including Kathryn who was actually quite looking forward to the ship's party. The only problem she had with it was that Tom, Harry and Neelix were jealously guarding exact details; even captain's authority wasn't enough for them to spill the beans, it seemed, but Kathryn was by no means in any mood to argue the point strongly.

She leaned across her seat and beckoned Chakotay. When he leaned in her direction she said, "Seven believed this party was going to ultimately decrease the festivities in the air."

Chakotay chuckled at the absurdity of the idea. "If anything, it's made things worse," he replied. "And I can honestly say that before coming aboard Voyager I didn't know all the words to _Frosty the Snowman_."

"Chakotay!" Kathryn chided gently. "How could you not know that? It's a classic!"

"So, have you been given anything to do by Messrs Kim, Paris and Neelix?" he asked quietly.

"No, but I have been told to stay away from the coffee pots," Janeway said in mock indignation. "Apparently, they're for people who either don't drink alcohol or who don't want to drink it, but not for me."

"You've got to hand it to them, though," Chakotay said. "They only came up with this idea yesterday. It just goes to show what Lieutenant Paris can actually do if he puts his mind to it."

"There always has to be an incentive with Tom," Kathryn agreed. "And speaking of which, have you been pulled into anything dark and underhand?" she asked with a half-grin.

Chakotay shifted in his seat. "There was something they asked for my assistance with," he said neutrally. "I haven't decided if they'll actually get it or not."

"Go for it," Kathryn encouraged. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"What indeed..." Chakotay trailed off as _Voyager_ reached its destination.

"Here we are, Captain," Tom stated proudly from the helm. It appeared that he hadn't heard the conversation behind him. "Our home for the nest two days."

"Slow to half impulse," Kathryn ordered, standing up so that she could get a better look at what she was seeing; a beautiful little purple and green nebula that would mask them from the rest of the galaxy for forty-eight hours. "And set a course for the centre."

Tom carried out her orders and slowly _Voyager_ slid forwards into the nebula, the inertial dampeners negating any adverse effects from the energy and matter around them. "We're at the centre of the nebula," he reported a few seconds later."

"All stop," Kathryn said. "Engines on standby."

"Aye, Captain. She's raring to go."

Kathryn ignored the 'car talk', as she had privately christened it, and instead checked the chronometer on the captain's chair. "You have forty-eight hours and counting, Lieutenant," she said. "I don't know about the rest of the crew, but I think you'd better make this little sojourn worth all the effort."

"Don't worry, I intend to," Tom replied, checking the ship's co-ordinates one more time.

***

December 18th dawned on the starship _Voyager_ and as the chronometer showed 0600 hours, three men were adding the finishing touched to a fairly revamped mess hall.

"That's it, I think we're done," Harry sighed, sinking down onto the nearest chair. "Tom, please tell me we've done enough to the place."

Tom, apparently on some sort of energy bound, took another look around at what lay before him. "Gentlemen, this is going to be a day nobody on Voyager will forget in a long time."

"For all the right reasons, I hope," Harry grunted, fighting to stay awake. "Because right now, all I want for Christmas is some sleep, never mind about any presents."

"Shouldn't be a problem," Tom said absently.

And it wouldn't be if he could at all help it. Everything here was perfect. Clapping Neelix on the shoulder, Tom half-pulled, half-lifted his other friend out of his chair and left the mess hall.

They still had a few more things to do, although some sleep first wouldn't hurt in the slightest.

***

"What on earth?" Kathryn asked softly as she stepped inside the mess hall at 1700 hours later that day. Beside her, Seven remained silent but took everything around her in in one cool glance.

The mess hall had been completely transformed into something out of a history book; if she had been about thirty years younger Kathryn would have whooped there and then, and gone racing around to see what was where and if any of the presents in view had her name on them. As it was, she settled for a cat-like grin when she saw the 'pièce de resistance' of the party.

Neelix's kitchen had been transformed into a traditional and seemingly authentic grotto complete with a snow-encrusted roof and icicles poking out of the few pots and pans that remained dotted around the newly-erected 'walls'. Stacks of small wrapped parcels dotted the mess at regular intervals, and the nebula outside only added to the atmosphere inside the ship.

"Traditional enough for you, Captain?" Tom asked, approaching the two women, the tattered Santa hat on his head clashing with his blue civvies. He had a glass of drink in one hand and offered it to Kathryn, who accepted it with a smile.

"You did all this, Tom?" she asked, encompassing the flurry of activity in the mess with her glass.

"Well, it wasn't just me," Tom replied modestly, looking pointedly at the grotto. Following his line of vision, Kathryn saw what he meant.

Ensigns Harry Kim and Robert Mackie were the spitting image of happy little elves. True to his word, Harry had made sure that the costume didn't incorporate any tights, and true to his deal with Robert, both were now in costume and handing out the parcels to the crewmembers that had already arrived.

As the three watched, Robert and Harry would wait for people to arrive and them accost them with their parcels; most of them were accepted with good grace and more than a few giggles from the women; the men just stared at them once their backs were turned, and some smirks were exchanged, but not many.

"It's all to do with men in uniform," Tom hissed slyly to Kathryn as they watched Harry sharing some joke with Susan Nicoletti.

"Tom," Kathryn realised, turning to face him, "we're all in uniform on Voyager."

Tom shrugged. "Maybe it's something in the eggnog. I don't know. And anyway, Captain," he continued smoothly, "shouldn't you be showing Seven the finer points of a good Christmas?"

"I have already completed an extensive examination of Voyager's databanks, Lieutenant," Seven said calmly, watching Robert make a big show of handing a minuscule parcel to Ensign Hickman. "I do not believe anymore is required at this time."

"Oh really?" Tom asked. "What about jolly Saint Nick? How much 'research' have you gotten on him?"

Seven looked at him quizzically, but didn't answer.

"I knew it!" Tom said in mock outrage. "The most important feature of Christmas, and you don't know about it. Captain," he said, putting an arm around the blonde woman, "I don't know about you but I do believe that _somebody_ needs a little more cultural education."

Kathryn looked at him until things began to click in her mind. Then she raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You haven't..."

"Just through there," Tom laughed, pointing at the 'door' to the grotto. As Kathryn and Seven got closer to it, he added, "It was supposed to be for Naomi, but..." he trailed off deliberately.

The entrance to the grotto was little more than some swirling strands of metallic tinsel and crepe paper; they were easily pushed aside, and once inside, the two women saw a plumpish figure in red and white sat on a large wooden chair, surrounded by more wrapped parcels.

"You two look a little old to be Miss Wildman," 'Santa' joked, "but Christmas is for everyone. Which of you would like to go first?" He patted the stool by his chair as an explanation.

"Seven?" Kathryn whispered.

To her surprise, Seven actually looked nervous. "I... am unschooled in this particular aspect of Christmas, Captain," she said very quietly.

Kathryn nodded in understanding. "Let me show you how it's done," she said in an equally low tone of voice, and she strode over to the other end of the small grotto with ease and sat down on the stool, the height of which made her seem all the shorter compared to the towering Santa next to her.

"What's your name, little girl?" Santa asked, visibly smiling from behind a very large white beard.

Kathryn shot Seven an amused look before answering. "Kathryn," she said. "I'm Kathryn and this is my friend, Seven."

"And have you been a good girl this year, Kathryn?" Santa asked sincerely. Inwardly Kathryn rolled her eyes, and thought faintly that she knew that voice from somewhere, although she couldn't quite place it. "I have."

Santa's dark eyes twinkled. "And what would you like for Christmas this year from old Santa?" he asked.

Kathryn considered this important question for a moment before standing up enough so that she could lean over and whisper something into his ear. As she did so, she realised with a shock that she knew the man playing Santa very well; the question of how he had been talked into this would have to be answered later, no doubt.

For now, though, she settled for whispering her Christmas wish into the ear of Father Christmas. "All I want for Christmas is…"

The widened eyes and look of mild shock on Chakotay's face said it all.

__

Use your imaginations, but keep in mind the **rating** of this… and the more creative the idea the better ^^

Merry Christmas :)


End file.
